Taboo
by DirtyLittleMind
Summary: You mean to tell me that the Anti-Christ cannot handle ONE child!" Grestophe, OOC-ness and cursing. Rated to be safe


Dusk was settling now; time always seemed to go by fast in this town. Though far from the normal towns around the country this little mountain population is at the very least calm by the time the twilight settles down over its hills and it's skies flare with the brilliant colors of crimson and tangerine.

By now everything begins to settle. The birds and other woodland creatures scuttle back to their nests and burrows for a night of slumber while the humans retire to their homes for much needed sleep.

In this insane town you needed all you could to keep what little sanity you had.

But one figure did not retreat the warmth of his home.

The cry of steel hitting hard dirt echoed in the air, sending the left over birds into flight. A hole is made rather obvious by the lush green grass of the yard but the figure who is occupying that hole is not as familiar as most of the town is.

From his dark, dirty blonde hair to the seemingly always tired dark jade eyes it is obvious this child is fairly new to this town.

None knows this better then the child himself who slowly pokes his head out from his hard dug hole, gazing at the sun as it sets beyond South Parks hills "Well Sheet." He mutters, making no attempt to smother the slight French accent he had inherited from his 'Papa'.

For a moment he does nothing, only staring at the horizon where the sun sets and almost seemed to stare back at him. Finally, however, he brings his shovel up and jams the spade down into the grass and dirt next to the hole; yanking himself out from the confines of the earth.

"Sheet." He mutters again, sighing heavily before pressing against his lower back with his hands while his spine lets out several angry pops and snaps in protest.

"Better get inside zee 'ouse soon….Daddy will throw a fit again if I don't." this is said more to himself than anything else, a smile curling his pale lips as he remembers the last time his daddy got worried about him and came out looking for him only to find him in a rather deep hole that he had dug.

Needless to say his Daddy was not happy, his Papa on the other hand was rather proud of him for the hole.

This got Papa on Daddy's bad side, again. The boy giggled a little at the memory; amused.

Right now his Papa was out on another mission and he wasn't sure when he would be back, he was never sure when papa would be back.

Sighing a little the child tucked his shovel back into the strap on his back and began to head inside, he wasn't surprised to find that his Dad was doing paperwork in the office yet again so he decided not to bother him; Gregory got very little sleep as it was when the Mole was working on a mission.

"Daddy… I'm back." He only called out so Gregory wouldn't end up looking for him again like last time and become worried.

"I would assume you are filthy again, Alex?" came the reply from the office, which made Alexander smile a little.

"Of course I am Daddy…I've been digging." There was a short pause in the air until a chuckle rose from the office; the father was obviously amused by the child's reply. "Fine… go clean up then, you shrew." He had used the nickname just for teasing affection.

Alexander blinked then laughed and headed toward the bathroom to do as told. Being five years old meant that bathing really did not take that long, it just seemed like it. After about fifteen minutes Alex quietly exited from the bathroom and slipped into his own room, quietly dressing in nightly attire and looking over to the shovel he kept in the corner of the room.

The shovel had been one of the few things Christophe had given to Alexander and, like his papa, the child treasured the tool as though it were his best friend. Sure he was often teased for carting the item around but then again who cared what others thought?

Not giving it another thought the child silently dressed, choosing a simple white cotton tee and his usual dark green pants. It was about this time that he heard the phone ring, which wasn't unusual in this house considering clients usually called for some kind of work done.

Unusually though it rang more than twice and this caught his attention; Gregory usually answered by the second ring.

Peeking out from his bedroom he was able to hear the phone being picked up slowly, as though it could strike like an angry animal. The small beeping sound of the button being pushed could be heard and silently he listened, wondering.

"Damien….any particular reason you happen to be calling me?" the tone was irate, the Anti-Christ was not on good terms with his parents due to that 'Setting Gregory's pants on fire' incident that happened a couple of years ago.

"What….?" There was a pause, Damien speaking on his end of the line "What do you mean? There is no god damn way you are speaking the truth to me! What kind of sick game are you playing?!" the tension in the air suddenly seemed to double, chills running down Alex's spine from the tone his father was using.

He rarely saw his father angry, so what had invoked his rage now?

"…. What the hell do you mean you can't take care of him anymore?!" there was a further pause, he could hear paper crumpling as Gregory attempted to contain his anger by taking it out on helpless sheets of paper that littered his desk.

"Do you seriously expect me to believe that the _Anti-Christ _cannot handle a single child?!" he was becoming angrier by the minute by this point.

"Oh so just because he's interfering with your life that means it's perfectly fine to dump him on my family so he can do the same thing to us?!"

He was livid by this point.

"Fine! Fine! Send him here, just shut the hell up! I don't want to fucking hear it!" there was more heated discussion before the sound of the line disconnecting was heard with a quiet beep. Carefully Alex slid out from his bedroom and inched toward the office, slowly peeking around to look inside the room

As usual it was in a slight state of disarray; the oak desk placed close to the northern wall, facing the door. Gregory was obviously aggravated, his hands running slowly through his light blonde hair to try and ease his obviously buzzing mind.

For a moment the child said nothing, was afraid to say anything. Soon however he could no longer smother the question bubbling in his stomach and up his throat. "Daddy?" he called quietly from the door.

For a moment he received nothing in reply but soon his father lifted light blue eyes to stare at him, seeming to contemplate something for a moment or two before speaking in a low and obviously tired voice "Yes Alex?"

Alex shifted nervously from his place in the door, not sure if he should be asking this so soon, but he was extremely curious and needed to know what was going on.

"Who….. Who's coming here?" the question was soft, timid and hard to hear.

For a moment Gregory did not reply. Instead he silently stared at Alexander with a studying gaze, for a moment contemplating once again how the child had come into existence. At first all the morning sickness, mood swings and crazy as hell cravings that he had experienced for those grueling nine months did not seem worth it.

That all changed the moment he held the child, immediately he knew he wouldn't have traded those nine months for anything. Snapping from his reverie and remembering the question Alex had just presented to him he only let out a tired sigh and gave a slightly sad smile to his little one. This was going to be difficult to explain.

"Your half brother… Scott."


End file.
